Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death - Chapter 266: The Old Cane

“Aiyo, this time someone’s going to die. This is going to be a big deal.”

She had transmigrated, and her architectural style had transcended into that of a village girl. How could she be so ungrounded?!

When she opened her eyes, she saw a group of people beating her up.

Mama, who can tell her what’s going on?

That patched up but handsome shy man actually liked her?

- Description from Novelupdates

Veyne came from the life of sewer rats.The world saw him as a failure. He called it belief. Others called it stupidity. Either way, it was the only thing he had left.Even at rock bottom, Veyne never stopped believing in himself.Betrayed by his lover and brother, treated as a burden, and forced to slave endlessly in the game to chase his dream—he endured it all.Though late, his obsession was finally rewarded with an opportunity. But the sewer rat in him was too weak to hold onto it. He had fought the world and lost.Actions have consequences. And when he failed in the game, those consequences caught up to him, leading to his death.But the universe wasn’t done with him yet.Given a second chance, he returned to a time when the game had already been out for two years. This time, he rushed to obtain the Template Wilder class—the very class that led to his downfall.One of the game’s rarest hidden classes, the Wilder class, allowed him to switch into different forms based on the monster templates he possessed. An overpowered ability—but it came with a fatal catch.A hidden template forced him into the form of an ancient baby creature, one so cursed that players, monsters, and even NPCs would hunt him down. If he died in that form, his character would be permanently deleted.In his past life, he underestimated the class’s dangers. And the world tore him apart for it.This time, it wouldn’t be just hollow belief.This time, he’s not here to survive—he’s here to dominate.No emotional ties.No second chances.The entire game is his enemy, and he will crush anyone who stands in his way.He failed once. He suffered. He died. He was erased.Not this time.This is the beginning of his legend. The era of Veyne Draven.

What is a story without a reader?Nothing.Stories are for the readers to define.What about a story with four readers?It is a lot for the story, but for the author the story is far from being satisfactory.So when the author closes the story beloved to only four readers.How do they deal with it?How do they deal with the end?What happens when the author swallows the key to the story’s life.Especially when it simply became beyond human terms.

Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”